Undressing the Captain

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The last battle that the crew had to face was one that I wanted to forget. We lost some of our men and others have been left scarred for life.

Since I got on this ship, four weeks ago I had to attend to more men that I have done in all my life. Being the only one that actually knew out to dress a wound properly gave me some advantage over the fact that I am the only woman on board. The story of how I got here, is one to another time.

I stand in the middle of the deck, the sailors that remained unarmed and the ones with little damage kept the vessel floating where they wanted it to go. Looking down at my oversized white shirt I undo the laces on the chest, trying to stop the clinging on my skin because of the sweat and blood that thankfully was not mine. I decide that a change of clothes is necessary, just like a need to be cleaned. Passing by the galley I bring a bucket of hot water and some clean cloths in it. But a new set of clothes is still missing and the only person that I know can have that taken care of is the Captain.

The Captain of the ship is someone that I came to be intrigued about. His young age doesn't explain the fame that hunts his name on the seas just like in land. He is said to be the most brutal Pirate known these days, yet, I still can't understand why.

The bucket of steaming water on my hands was heavy, but just the thought that soon enough the heavenly water would be dripping the floor beneath my feet was already a good incentive to carry it.

I make my way to the Captain's quarters hoping that he was in a good mood to lend me some clothes. I hadn't seen him since the fight. He had secured a lot of goods and cargo with it, but the fact some of his men were lost and others injured could make him in a bad mood.

By his door, I knock softly trying my best not to let the water encounter the floor sooner than I intended. But after a few minutes of silence, my patience has worn out. Opening the door with my elbow and then pushing it with my back I entered the Captain's quarters hoping he wouldn't mind the intrusion. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Captain... But I'm in need of some clot-" just when turn to look at him, the sight that I got was not what I expected.

There stood the Captain, holding to his unfastened leather belt, that holds his breeches in place every day. Those now hung very deeply in his waist, revealing more than I was supposed to see. The V of his waist completely on display and I didn't know if I could call it waist by this time. To worsen it all, he didn't bear a shirt. His chest and upper body displayed for me to see. And how I was seeing it.

My mouth had gone dry by now, and If I didn't know better I would say that hours have passed instead of seconds. My shock made me let go of the bucket, along with the rags and cloths that I hoped would help me bathe.

I drop to my knees immediately, starting to collect them, as I tried to collect myself. "I'm so sorry, I really... I didn't want to... oh good god" I whispered more to myself than to the wonderful Captain. The silence was horrible and seemed to extend more each passing second. He hasn't said a word and yet I see his boots right in front of me. I didn't even hear him cross the room.

Slowly I lift my gaze, looking at him from the floor. But I shouldn't have done that. I was in such a compromising position. My eyes at the level of his leather belt that he didn't hold anymore. Is breeches so close to falling any minute now. His eyes bore in my head, but I couldn't avert my eyes to his own.

Suddenly his hand is on my cheek, caressing it slowly. I wet my lips, trying to figure out what to say to him. His thumb caresses my lower lip and I didn't even resist when he opened my mouth, just a little bit. His thumb resting now. I looked at him, but his eyes were focused on my mouth, dark and dangerous. I could see all types of emotions in them, yet, I couldn't name one. I didn't find the strength to move, still, on my knees, mouth hanging open, my eyes in his and his exploring my face. I felt vulnerable in this position, but I couldn't move. Somehow the feeling of vulnerability right now was one that I was enjoying. I never did, but at this moment, I didn't want to be in control. I wanted him in control. Whatever that means.